


To Be Brave

by Evie_adams273



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albie, Albus needs a hug, Alternate Universe, Bad temper, Brave, Bullying, Fest, I promise, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, albus is struggling, beta, ends on a high, little bit of violence, promise this is gay, scorpius is a little unpleasant, scorpius is hiding, starting to love, the owlrey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_adams273/pseuds/Evie_adams273
Summary: Scorpius was confident and supposedly unafraid. Albus was alone and couldn't care less. Scorpius didn't know Albus. Albus hated Scorpius. So why was he starting to become almost obsessed with him? What was wrong with him? And why did Scorpius seem to care about him so much?





	To Be Brave

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: descriptions of violence and bullying  
thanks to sunshinescorpius for beta - love you xxx

Scorpius Malfoy had not expected to make friends on his first day of Hogwarts. He had been entirely aware of the rumour that surrounded him, and entirely shocked when a couple of second years, laughing and chatting, had walked into his compartment, saying something about there being no other space, and sat down.

He hadn’t complained, knowing that they far outnumbered him, and at one point on the journey, they had begun talking to him, apparently unaware of who he was. When they had found out, it had been in the Great Hall when someone had noticed him and taunted him, calling him ‘Voldemort’s son’. The experience on the train had given him a strange sense of confidence and he had snapped back at them to go away, because it wasn’t any of their business.

Three days later, those who had teased him had cornered him again, and he had fought back, in full view of the second years who were trying to work out whether to continue accepting him into their group.

That had impressed them, and ever since, he had been one of the strongest in their group. He had gained a reputation for being proud of his heritage and anyone who questioned that quickly learnt their lesson, normally through a bloody nose that Scorpius happily inflicted. He understood that the Malfoys had an unpleasant reputation and his actions didn’t exactly help, but he refused to be a doormat and let others bully him.

Fighting back stopped people coming after him. It was all in defence.

He never attacked anyone. He had dignity. He never made the first move in hurting others. It was always a defence from their insults. And that was the defence he used on the occasion that he was reported to teachers. He was defending himself. It was always going to get violent. He had to.

He barely ever served detention for his actions.

* * *

Albus Potter hadn’t known what to expect when he first climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express. His only goal and concern about the entire experience was about how he would be sorted. Rose had been so excited to find friends and be popular, and he had soon abandoned her on the train, looking for empty compartments.

He had found one, pulled out a book, and sat next to the window, trying to pass the time. His mum had given him money ‘for a healthy lunch’. He had bought sweets. She didn’t need to know.

No one entered the compartment over the course of the journey, and by the time they arrived at the school, he had made no friends. In the Great Hall, it appeared that, while everyone was interested in talking to him, they already had friends and had very little interest in being his. Especially after he was Sorted into Slytherin.

He spent much of his time at Hogwarts alone, trying to understand everything that he couldn’t get his head around from lessons. Which was the majority of stuff. So, he was almost always working on something or another, trying to ignore the taunts from his classmates about how it would be more practical for him to just give up.

He wanted to. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to disappoint his parents. He was aware that his dad hadn’t always been brilliant at school, but he had never been called a Squib. And he had never had to work through the night at least once a month just to crack one spell.

Albus was in his fifth year, and really starting to panic about how he was actually going to pass his OWLs. His grades were somewhere on the range of appalling to barely acceptable. If he could pull through the exams with As, he would have been pleased.

That was, however, unlikely. So he, the son of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, was probably going to fail his Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL.

Albus had considered other options and, most days, dropping out of civilisation and becoming a hermit was a highly attractive one. He hadn’t yet, simply because he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. But if he found some spare time from some sort of wormhole (that was the only place he was going to find any), he promised himself that he’d look into it.

* * *

The dormitory door opened and Albus rolled his eyes as Scorpius Malfoy and his sixth year cronies walked into the dormitory, talking and laughing loudly. They always seemed to come and make their noise in the fifth year dormitory, despite the fact that only Malfoy actually slept there.

Albus closed his hangings, lighting his wand so that he could see what he was trying to read from the Transfiguration textbook on his lap. The homework was to write an essay, but he needed to understand the basic principles first.

Malfoy’s group didn’t seem to notice him, continuing to talk about their latest victim. It disgusted Albus that they could routinely hurt people in the way that they did and barely ever pay for it. According to them it was self-defence, defence of Malfoy and his family.

Albus knew better. Everyone knew better. Everyone except the teachers, who believed the lie that violence was being incited with the taunts. Maybe, at the beginning, it had been. But it never was anymore. Simply because everyone was too scared of the Malfoy who had a bodyguard of sixth years.

Albus tried to block out the banter that was making it through the curtains around him, but he wasn’t entirely successful, continually catching snippets of the conversation.   
“I can’t fucking believe he tried that,” one laughed. “I mean, fighting back? Us? After he deserved the whole fucking thing.”   
“Some idiots need telling twice. Isn’t that right, Scorpion?”

No reply.

“Scorpion?”   
“Yeah. Yeah, he did. Useless idiot.”   
“Are you okay?”   
“That hit a little too close,” Malfoy muttered. “The prick didn’t know what really was too far.”   
“Do you want to find him again?”   
“Nah. Not worth it. I’d kill him by mistake.”   
“Suit yourself. But if you want to, we’re open to it.”

Albus lay down, pulling his pillow around his head. It did a little more to block out the sound. He would probably sit like this until he thought they were gone, whereupon he would put his stuff away quickly and try and get some sleep. It was Saturday the next day, and there was a Quidditch Match, which meant that he had the rare opportunity to study, alone, for the majority of the day. And then he would pull his monthly all-nighter.

And no one, not his bullies, not Malfoy’s group, no one is the world would bother him because he would, for once, be the least interesting part of their lives.   
“I swear they’re getting worse again.”

Albus groaned as he realised that the pillow was, in reality, pretty useless against noise. Then he cut himself off, trying not to alert the others to his presence. He would just have to stomach it and listen. As much as it pissed him off. “We haven’t taught anyone enough of a lesson recently. They’re starting to think it’s okay to insult Scorpion’s family again.”   
“They didn’t insult my family this time,” Malfoy’s voice was low, dangerously quiet. “They insulted my mother. There’s a slight difference there.”

Despite himself, Albus felt a pang of sympathy for Malfoy when he said that. Everyone knew that his mother had died before Third Year, and he had never been entirely okay since. It had hardened him, not simply because he had lost her, but because he never got in trouble when he didn’t do his schoolwork. That had resulted in a torrent of abuse that he had retaliated against by beating up every single one of the people who had hurt him.

That had been one of the few times he had received a proper detention, because it was one of the few times when he had lost control and hurt people on such a scale that even the teachers couldn’t deny that he was at fault.

The detentions had made him worse.

They made him think that he was right. Maybe he was.

Albus shook himself. Why was he sympathising with Scorpius Malfoy? Sure, he had loss in his life, but so did they all. Sure, his loss was probably worse than most peoples, but that didn’t give him the excuse to hurt other people over it. The arrogant prick.

* * *

Scorpius struggled to sleep that night, the words he had heard before he had punched the living daylights out of their speaker, still rolling around his head. They had told him his mother deserved to die. They had told him that it should have been him instead. They had told him that he was worth less than shit.

He didn’t always feel that the violence was justified, though he never felt strongly enough to step in, but this time, he had enjoyed pounding the shit out of the smug boy’s face. No one would come after him now. Not for a while anyway.

But sometimes he wondered whether he deserved to feel that way, act that way. His mother had never known the details of his actions at school, and he doubted that she’d have actually approved in any form.

She never found out because it was one of the few things his father had not told his wife. The letters over his actions were sent to him, and they never went any further. His father had never disagreed with Scorpius’ actions after Scorpius had explained that it was in self-defence.

So, he also lied about his life to his parents as well. It wasn’t a healthy habit. And Scorpius couldn’t help but care less and less about it with every passing day. As long as he passed his exams, which he would, got a steady career, and was generally happy, his father didn’t care what he did.

He rolled over for the hundredth time, groaning and sitting up. He pulled the duvet back, stepping out from the hangings. The rest of the dormitory was asleep and while Scorpius didn’t want to risk sleeping with the hangings open, he could go and find some water to cool himself down.

He walked to the bathroom, stumbling slightly in the darkness. When he got there, he fumbled around for a glass and turned on the tap, not bothering with the lights. Once he’d had a drink, he splashed a little water on his face and took a deep breath. He needed to sleep.

He walked back across the silent dormitory, rubbing his eyes. It was too hot. Too damn hot to sleep. “You’re fucked up,” a voice muttered from beside him.

He stopped, looking to the source of the voice. There was a moment of silence, and then Albus Potter’s face was illuminated in soft wand light.   
“What?” he frowned.   
“Beating people up,” Albus said. “That’s fucked up.”   
“Are you looking for a fight?”   
“I’m not scared of you, Malfoy,” Albus spat. “So don’t even try. And anyway, I’m not insulting you because you’re a Malfoy or whatever. I’m insulting you because assaulting people is fucked up.”   
“Piss off,” Scorpius muttered. “Why are you still awake, anyway?”   
“Studying.”

Scorpius didn’t reply, walking away. He couldn’t be bothered to get into a fight then and there. Albus had never said anything to him at any other time. It was likely that this was a one off occasion.

For some reason he didn’t want Albus to get hurt for his words. For some reason his words hit home a little too hard. Because, deep down, Scorpius was aware that Albus was right. He was so brutally honest. Scorpius appreciated it. Not that he’d ever admit that.

He lay down again, on top of the duvet this time, and closed his eyes, rolling over onto his side. Tomorrow was Sunday. He could sit around and just do work. He wasn’t needed for anything. He could stop thinking. For a bit.

* * *

The next morning, Albus fell asleep as the rest of the dormitory started to wake up. It was a Sunday morning and he ended up dozing off, surrounded by piles of books and parchment. He slept until about midday, and then dressed and made his way to the Great Hall for what was technically his breakfast.

It was quiet when he arrived and he sat down at one end of the table, pulling out a book that he hadn’t managed to get onto. He knew he should take a break, but he didn’t. He hadn’t covered nearly as much as he had wanted overnight, and his conversation with Scorpius Malfoy had distracted him somewhat.

He was slightly worried that he now had a target on his back, and his meal was going to be interrupted by a group of thugs who wanted to drag him outside and kick his head in, but nothing happened. Strangely, when he had spoken to Malfoy, he had seen a slight reluctance in his eyes. It was reasonably obvious that his heart hadn’t been in it when he had threatened Albus with a fight.

He put a little food on his plate, yawning and blinking a few times to try and wake up slightly. Five hours sleep after twenty four hours awake was not sufficient. Unsurprisingly.

After he had eaten, Albus walked out the Hall. He knew that he still had more work to do, but the sun was out and he had worked so damn hard. It probably wasn’t going to pay off. And even if it did, he could take an afternoon off. He could afford to take an afternoon off.

He stepped out into the now-afternoon sunshine, taking a deep breath and starting to walk down towards the lake. There were already quite a few students wandering around, sat down by the lake, or sat under the beech trees. Albus stayed on the steps however, staring up at the sky while squinting in the sunlight.

He couldn’t remember the last time that he had allowed himself to stop studying and come outside, just to enjoy himself. It had been a long time ago undoubtedly. Possibly when the majority of his family at Hogwarts still spoke to him. That had been a very long time ago.

He paused slightly as he saw Malfoy’s group of friends, without Malfoy himself, walking towards him. He looked at the ground, moving away from them. They were probably just walking past him in search of their next victim. He didn’t need to get in the way.

But they matched his movements, changing direction to walk towards him, and his blood ran cold. Shit. Shit. Shit. He was their next victim. For whatever reason, whether someone had overheard him insulting Malfoy, or whether he was just unfortunate, he was their next victim. And he couldn’t defend himself.

He tried to avoid eye-contact as they reached him, all sarcastic smiles and laughter, but it didn’t do much.   
“What do you want?” he muttered.   
“A chat,” one of them grinned.   
“Why do I get the feeling that a chat with you will land me in the Hospital Wing?”   
“It won’t. We just wanted to ask you a question.”   
“Yes?”   
“We were in the dormitory yesterday.”   
“And?”   
“Were you in there?”   
“Why do you care?”   
“–just curious.”

Albus smirked slightly. He had caught the hesitation. His presence mattered. Maybe that was the reason he never really got caught. There was never a witness. But now, he had a little piece of power, however small, over them. And by Merlin he was going to use it.   
“If I was in there,” he started slowly, “what would I get out of keeping quiet?”   
“We’re not interested in making deals–”   
“I may be failing all academic work, but I’m not stupid. It wouldn’t take much to work out who your latest victim was. It wouldn’t take much to tell the teachers exactly what happened and watch you crash and burn. In fact, I think I might even enjoy doing something like that.”

He watched the anger build on their faces, beginning to back away. He was about to suggest that they think on it and get back to him, but he didn’t get that far, feeling his arms being pinned to his back.   
“What the fuck–”

A fist landed in his stomach and he groaned in pain, doubling over as far as those restraining would allow. And then another fist hit him again, this time in the face. Blood started to drip from his nose and he spat it away, staring up at them, a deep, burning resentment growing in his eyes.

And the fists kept coming, kept hitting him. He was going to be sick. He was scared he might actually vomit up the food he had managed to get himself eat. Everything hurt so much. His shirt was soaking through with droplets of blood from his bleeding nose. He was so fucking screwed. He had tried to overpower the powerful sixth years. He was insane.

And then they let go and he hit the floor, yelling out in pain. Shouts were ringing in his ears, a mix of his own and something new, and he forced his eyes open to see what was going on.   
“What the hell!” Malfoy was near-screaming at them, pulling them away from him. “What the hell is going on?”   
“He was–”   
“We do not attack,” Malfoy snarled firmly. “We defend ourselves against insults. And he hasn’t done anything so what the hell are you doing?”

There was silence and Albus started to pull himself up, grimacing in pain. Why the fuck did it have to be Scorpius Malfoy who saved his ass? Why did he now owe the most unpleasant person in the entire fucking school.   
“Albus, are you okay?” Malfoy turned to him, offering a hand to help him up with.   
“Piss off, Malfoy.”

Albus didn’t take the hand offered, pulling himself up and limping back up towards the school. Theory had been proven – the outside was evil.

* * *

Scorpius stopped before they reached the dormitory corridor. He was still in slight shock from the scene he had stumbled upon and thankfully managed to prevent from getting even worse. He had never imagined that they would ever actually hurt people in an unprovoked attack. They had attempted to claim that it wasn’t unprovoked, but Scorpius knew better.

Even if Albus had said something that had warranted an attack, it would not have been of his own accord. The situation was not his fault, and that was why Scorpius turned around sharply and had point-blank banned his friends from his dormitory. If they were still spitting fire, he was unwilling to let them anywhere near Albus.

He had no idea why he was so protective over a boy whom he had only spoken to on a rare occasion, who only the night before had sworn at him and pretty much admitted that he hated him. The anger that he had felt when he had come upon them beating him up had not been just anger at them breaking the unspoken code that they had.

It was anger that they had targeted Albus, the quiet, hard-working boy who had never done anything to hurt them. Albus was an evidently unhappy person and them making it worse annoyed Scorpius for reasons he could not entirely understand. Albus’ safety and happiness was suddenly important to him for no apparent reason.

Once he had watched his friends enter their own dormitory, he pushed his dormitory door open, walking in slowly. He didn’t want to make Albus angrier than he had been earlier, although he was determined to find out if he was actually okay.

Albus was sat on his bed, reading a book. He hadn’t changed his shirt and blood was still dripping from his nose slightly. He didn’t have a tissue. Scorpius pulled one from his pocket, walking over and passing it to him.   
“I’m sorry about them,” he said quietly.   
“I told you earlier,” Albus muttered, wincing, “piss off, Malfoy.”   
“I wanted to make sure you were okay–”   
“Why?” Albus snapped. “Why am I different from any of the other victims that your friends feel very happy to kick the shit out of? Why does it matter if it’s provoked or not?”   
“Because I have dignity–”

Scorpius cut himself off. It was a natural reaction, and one that he had very little interest in showing to Albus when he was trying to be kind.   
“Sorry,” he said quietly.   
“Don’t be,” Albus turned away. “Just piss off.”

Scorpius obliged, sitting down on his bed and lying back to stare at the ceiling. Albus had every right to be angry. He wasn’t going to force anything from him. “They’re not allowed in here now,” he said slowly. “I’m not letting them in here again.”

No response.

Scorpius sighed. Why was he doing this? Why was he risking his only friendships, his only protection, for a boy who didn’t want his help and didn’t seem to care about him? Something about it being the right thing to do, but that didn’t click. That didn’t seem like a proper justification.

He shook himself. Why did he need a justification for something like this? Couldn’t he just try and be kind and not think about why?

* * *

Albus closed his book slowly, wiping the blood away from his nose for the hundredth time. He couldn’t be bothered anymore. He had worked all day and all night and now he was working again and it never actually got him anywhere. His grades were still appalling. And, really, what was the difference between just failing and failing dramatically?

He could stop working and have a life and fail just as badly as he would with the constant study. Though the upside of study was that he could say that he tried. Because he did. He had no friends because he tried so fucking hard. And he was tired of it never paying off.

Of course, he had gone through this group of thoughts a hundred times. And he had never changed anything about the way he lived. Because it wasn’t worth risking even more anger and disappointment from his family.

Malfoy was still sat on his bed. Albus desperately wanted to tell him to fuck off and get out, but technically he was permitted in the dormitory too. His stopping his friends had been bullshit. Either it had been organised or he hadn’t actually cared that much; it had just been too risky and in view. Or something.

There was no way that Scorpius Malfoy actually cared about him, in any capacity. Why would he when the two of them had never interacted beyond uneasy greetings on occasions when it was absolutely necessary.

Why was he still even thinking about Malfoy? It didn’t matter. He had never concentrated on him for this long before.

For some reason, the image of Malfoy stopping his friends kept sticking in his mind. Seeing him so angry, so determined to stop something, for a nobody who had never done anything kind for him, confused Albus.

No one cared about him. And he assumed that he didn’t care about that because it was now his norm. Being alone was apparently okay. But someone caring about him, even when he pushed it away, made him feel differently. It made him feel almost whole.

He stopped. He did not care about Scorpius Malfoy. Malfoy looked down at him as if he were scum the majority of the time. Why would he start to care now. His instinctive reply that he had stopped was correct. He had dignity. That was the only reason Albus hadn’t been assaulted within an inch of his life.

Dignity.

He would have almost preferred Malfoy not stopping them if the only reason he had done it was a tradition that always had to be upheld in his pathetic eyes.

Albus looked over at Malfoy for a moment, and looked away awkwardly as he realised that Malfoy had been watching him quietly. Creep.

He stood up, putting the book down and walking around the bed to his drawer. His shirt needed washing. He took a new shirt out and wondered into the bathroom, wrapping a load of toilet roll around his hand and starting to wipe the blood off his face. Then he peeled off his shirt, dumping it in the sink and turning on the cold tap, watching the stains fade into a dark orange colour.

He stood silently for a couple of minutes, unaware that the time had really been passing, before he shivered and pulled the new shirt on, trying to avoid the other spots of blood that he hadn’t managed to clean off.

Then he picked up the wet shirt, squeezed it out, and dumped it in the washing basket by the door. It would make everything else damp. It would probably piss someone off. And they would never actually know it was him. No one assumed that quiet, stupid, pathetic Potter would ever ‘upset the balance’.

Malfoy was still in the dormitory when he walked back in. Albus tried to ignore him, walking to his bed and drawing the hangings around himself. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to be good at something. He just wanted a life.

Not that he was ever going to get it.

* * *

The weeks began to pass. Scorpius found himself looking out for Albus more and more as the time passed, keeping him safe when it looked as if someone was going to pounce on him, trying to ask how he was. His actions were always ignored by Albus, but he didn’t find himself minding.

He was his usual level of unpleasantness towards the rest of the school, because he was not soft. He just wanted to prove that he wasn’t unreasonable, even when no one else was actually watching. It was for Albus.

His friends began to turn from him slightly, complaining that he was turning soft. Scorpius had taken this as a threat after a few days of hints and given one of his sixth year friends a bloody nose for the taunts. After that, there were no more threats.

Scorpius found himself thinking, more and more, about Albus, and why he suddenly cared so much about this strange, sad child who he had never spoken to beyond angry moments. There were some answers, but he didn’t particularly care for many of them. The one person he had mentioned it to, as a hypothetical with no name, had laughed it back in his face, suggesting he might have a crush.

Scorpius shook that idea off. But it was possible. He had never liked anyone before. The probability that the first person he ever liked would be Albus Potter was incredibly low. It was a stupid idea. He didn’t even know why he was even considering it.

No. It wasn’t something he could rule out. Because he had spent several weeks worrying, almost constantly, about Albus. And he didn’t care when Albus told him to piss off. Because the fact that Albus wasn’t getting hurt was much more important.

If he did have a crush on Albus, did that mean he was gay? He had never actually had any interest in boys, girls, or others. Maybe this was just wanting to be friends, because it would be nice to have friends that he didn’t have to threaten to keep them from threatening him.

Or maybe he didn’t have a crush on Albus. Maybe it was something that he couldn’t just decide, and he had to watch how things played out. Maybe it was a temporary thing that would blow over in a few more weeks.

Or maybe he was LGBTQIA+ and he had a crush on Albus Potter. Albus bloody Potter. Where the hell did that leave him? In all honesty, where did that leave him?

The morally questionable son of the morally questionable man was gay. Or bi. Or pan. Or something else. Whatever it was, it would make gossip headlines. Of course it would make gossip headlines.

* * *

Albus leaned over the edge of the Owlery, staring out over the grounds. He was attempting to clear his head of thoughts about Scorpius Malfoy, having thought about him, almost constantly for three or four weeks.

He didn’t know why. He hated the boy. And he had, somehow, become almost obsessed with this hatred, as if he were trying to find more reasons to validate it. He had convinced himself that he hated how Malfoy was incredibly protective of him, but deep down he knew it was simply because he hated that he couldn’t defend himself.

The Owlery helped clear his head. The night air was cool, calming. He could think properly when no one else was around. And as long as those who came to deliver letters were quick about it, and didn’t try and talk to him, he could continue to think properly. Most of the time, that was the case.

Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Shit. He knew his middle name. What did that say about him? Was that when he crossed the line from hatred to obsession? Was that creepy? Albus hated himself sometimes.

Why wasn’t he working? He was falling behind again and it was showing, and yet he was stood at the top of the school, thinking about everything except schoolwork. He had shit priorities. But he couldn’t be arsed to sort them. Because it didn’t matter to him anymore. He was going to fail his OWLs, and then his NEWTs. He was going to be a disappointment to everyone around him. And he didn’t care.

He was much happier simply accepting the inevitable than attempting to stop it, when he’d been trying that for years and nothing had changed. He was going to fail. And then maybe he could run off and live as a hermit as he had planned.

He stared upwards at the sky, screaming out in frustration. And then he became incredibly aware that he was not alone anymore. Someone had come up and had stood behind him for about ten minutes. Albus had ignored them because they weren’t making much noise and that was, altogether, quite a lot easier than telling them to piss off. Especially when he was fairly sure who it was.

He turned around and, true to his expectations, Scorpius Malfoy was stood behind him, smiling somewhat awkwardly. Albus rolled his eyes and turned away again, groaning as Malfoy came to stand beside him.   
“Do the words ‘piss off’ not mean anything to you?” Albus snapped.   
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Scorpius shrugged.   
“You are a fucking creep,” Albus stared at him. “And I’d much prefer it if you just detached yourself from my life.”   
“I’m stopping my friends from killing you,” Scorpius frowned, apparently clueless. “Do you want me to stop?”

Albus looked at him, and then burst out laughing, throwing his head back as he looked out over the grounds. Malfoy had no idea. He was so trapped inside his own little pathetic bubble that he had no idea. And yet he still acted as if he did.   
“You’ve got no idea, do you?” Albus shook his head. “About what?”   
“Your so-called ‘protection’ is fucking useless,” Albus said. “It hasn’t stopped anything.”   
“What?” Malfoy stared. “What are you talking about?”   
“They just find time when you’re not looking,” Albus shrugged. “Don’t worry about stopping it. I’m used to it at this point.”   
“That’s insane,” Malfoy said slowly. “I’m not…I won’t let them–”   
“You’re a bit late to that party,” Albus interrupted. “Don’t bother. It’s just black eyes. I can deal with those.”

He watched Malfoy look at him carefully, gasping as he saw the dark ring around Albus’ eye. And then he found himself laughing again. This boy who claimed that he was trying to protect was so shocked at his own shittiness, it was almost funny.   
“I’ll stop them–”   
“Don’t bother,” Albus said again. “It would be easier to just deal with alone.”   
“But you haven’t done anything,” Malfoy said firmly. “We have some dignity. We don’t attack people who haven’t done anything wrong.”   
“Oh, fuck off, Malfoy,” Albus rolled his eyes. “Stop being such a pretentious prick and accept that you’re just as useless as the rest of us.”   
“They’re wrong,” Malfoy started to get a little angrier. “I am trying to keep people vaguely in line. Why don’t you want me to?”   
“Would you like me to insult your family?”   
“What?”   
“Well,” Albus shrugged, “it would give you an excuse to just let them get on with what they’re going to do already. It would make your life much easier, and it would mean that I wouldn’t have to deal with two tonnes of shit.”   
“You don’t sound as if you would actually mean anything you’re offering to say.”   
“I don’t,” Albus shrugged again. “But if I say the right thing about your mum, it won’t actually matter. In fact, I suspect that you’ll be first in line to kill me.”   
“I won’t be,” Malfoy said quietly.   
“Why the fuck not?”   
“Because I care about you.”   
“Creep.”   
“Am I?”   
“Well, yeah. Because no one else seems to give a shit about me.”   
“That makes two of us,” Scorpius muttered.   
“What?” Albus frowned at him. “You have friends, don’t you? That’s why we’re here.”   
“Friends who only give a shit about me if they can use my name as an excuse to hurt people. Besides, I give a shit about you.”   
“Why?”   
“I just do.”   
“And that is fucking strange.”

Albus looked away, attempting to collect his thoughts. He did not want to interact with Scorpius Malfoy. The easiest route out of the situation was saying something highly unpleasant about his mother and then walking away. It would probably get him killed at a later date, but he could live with that.   
“Albus–”   
“Piss off!” Albus near-screamed. “Or I am going to find myself telling you that your mum deserved what she got.”

Malfoy stopped at that, his hands shaking slightly. Albus turned away. He was well aware that he had just said something truly awful, on an impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not until he looked back to see tears starting to streak their way down Malfoy’s cheeks.   
“Why?” his voice shook, barely audible.   
“Because I love you,” Albus found himself whispering the words that, really, he knew were true.   
“What?”   
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” he screamed, his throat burning. “Because I keep thinking I’m in love with you and I’m not and I can’t be but I think I am and I can’t think about it!”   
“You think you might – you might love me?”   
“Have I not said enough for you to either kick the shit out of me or leave me alone? Please.”   
“It isn’t wrong,” Scorpius said quietly. “It isn’t wrong to – to fall in love.”   
“It is wrong to fall in love with you,” Albus muttered. “When have you ever heard of shit like this?”   
“You don’t talk to people,” Scorpius pointed out. “People – people do. And it’s okay.”   
“You are strangely okay with it. Are you claiming to be a freak too?”   
“You’re not a freak,” Scorpius said gently. “It’s not wrong. It’s not breaking rules. It’s love. And it’s okay.”   
“You’re not trying to kill me,” Albus laughed bitterly, walking towards the edge of the Owlery. “That’s surprising.”   
“Albus.”   
“Can you just forget that I ever said that?”   
“Albus.”   
“Please.”   
“If it were wrong, would I do this?”   
“What?” Albus didn’t turn to look at him.   
“This.”

This time, Albus turned to look and Scorpius smiled at him nervously, running his hand gently under Albus’ chin. Albus found it strangely comforting, and he didn’t protest immediately. In a moment. He could have it for one more moment.

And then Scorpius kissed him.

And Albus didn’t stop him.

Albus didn’t stop him because he wanted it. Because it was comforting and beautiful and maybe it wasn’t wrong. Maybe he could love Scorpius Malfoy. Maybe it could be all right.

Because he wanted to be part of it, to love and be loved, because it wasn’t wrong. Because he was deserved it. He deserved the love of the person who he, in truth, did love so deeply he thought it was going to kill him.

Why was it so easy to confuse love for hatred?

The spell was broken as Scorpius pulled away, smiling softly. Albus smiled back at him for a second, and then his panic took over.   
“Shit,” he muttered, turning away. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”   
“Albus? Are you okay?”   
“What the fuck am I doing?” Albus clenched his hands into fists. “What the fuck–”   
“It’s not wrong to love a boy.”   
“Okay,” Albus shrugged. “But this is a boy who finds a fucking justification to beat people up. And I like you. What the fuck am I doing?”   
“I don’t–”   
“I am _vulnerable _to you,” Albus stopped as the realisation hit him. “You know – oh dear Merlin – you know more than my own fucking family. What the fuck. What the actual living fuck.”   
“You’re worried because I know something about you?”   
“You know the deepest part of me!” Albus screamed. “Everyone knows that I’m a stupid, useless human who hates people. That’s not anything new. That’s never been anything new. But this. You know that I – I – I am a useless, shitty person who…I have never told anyone anything like this.”   
“I won’t tell–”   
“I can’t trust that! I don’t know you. And you now know more about me than anyone.”   
“Sit down.”   
“What?”   
“Albus, sit down.”

Albus did, slowly, staring at Scorpius as he sat down opposite him. This was a mistake. All of it was a huge, stupid mistake.   
“You’re scared,” Scorpius said softly, “because I know things about you that no one else does?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Fine,” Scorpius nodded. “Then I’ll tell you some things about me that no one else knows.”   
“Why?”   
“Trust. Blackmail material. Whatever you want to call it.”

Albus cracked a half-smile, raising his eyebrows. He would listen, if only because he would be able to get away from all of it at a later date.   
“So, what?”   
“I have a silencing charm on my bed,” Scorpius started slowly. “So that no one can hear that I cry myself to sleep every night.”   
“What?”   
“I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this. But I’m too scared to stop it. I can’t defend myself if they turn on me. And I hate myself for it. I hate that I’m not brave enough to turn around and tell them that I don’t want this anymore. I hate that I can’t stop them from hurting people.”

There was a silence and Albus looked up, not knowing what to say to continue the conversation. He didn’t know if he could even say anything to make it any better.   
“Albus, you make me brave.”   
“What?”   
“I am a coward. But I saw them hurting you and I felt able to step in. I stopped them. I’m not scared of standing up to them if I know you’re there.”   
“But I’m not there. I want nothing to do with you. Or I didn’t. I do now. I think. I don’t know. I just–”   
“I know,” Scorpius interrupted gently. “I – I get it.”

Albus pulled himself towards Scorpius nervously and Scorpius put a gentle arm around him, letting him lean his head on his shoulder. It wasn’t wrong. It was comforting. It was something he had forgotten about in his time alone. And yet, there was still a doubt in his mind, still a remnant of the hatred that he had convinced himself he was feeling.   
“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t just…”   
“I know,” Scorpius said again. “That’s okay. I understand. I just – can we be friends? I’d like to be friends.”   
“School work,” Albus mumbled slowly. “You’re good at that shit.”   
“It’s not all shit.”   
“Speak for yourself,” Albus smiled a little. “But you’re good at it. I’m – I’m really not.”   
“You’re not that bad–”   
“Do not kid yourself,” Albus said sharply. “But, could you, maybe, would you be able, to possibly–”   
“Deep breath.”   
“Would you teach me? As – as a friend?”

Scorpius smiled at him, a true, honest smile, and Albus felt himself starting to let himself breathe again.   
“I would love to,” Scorpius murmured. “Friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that and don't hate me too much for what I did to Scorpius. It hurt.   
Thanks for reading.  
Kudos and comments much appreciated.   
Twitter: @evieadams273


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